


overpowering bitterness

by Gorechi



Series: sweetest suffering [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood, Depression, Ice Cream, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorechi/pseuds/Gorechi
Summary: The ghost of Ouma Kokichi sits alone in a park, eating bubblegum ice-cream and trying to dispel death from his mind.





	overpowering bitterness

**Author's Note:**

> Where is the second part to my previous work, you may be wondering.
> 
> I started writing it but I lost interest in it. My writing there seemed unnatural. The shortened plot was that Shuichi snaps out of it before Ouma dies and there's crying and blood and then a trial where Saihara gets punished. Then he wakes up and that's all I got. 
> 
> THEN I started on a fic where Saihara self harms and Ouma gets him through it and I might post that.
> 
> THEN we're here. I tried to go for something a bit more, uh, poetic? Enjoy.

The scoop was soft and velvety against Ouma's tongue. It's his third, barely enough to satisfy his strong sweet tooth. 

This ice cream parlour was his favourite, nestled away from the faceless crowds of the city. The luminescent billboards and the hiss of car engines. It was in a small shopping centre on the outskirts of the chaos, almost uninhabited, save for a few apartment blocks and a small park where the local children liked to play. Sometimes, he would sit on a bench with a cone of vanilla and watch the wind blow aimlessly through the weeping willow trees that hunched over a silver stream like they were tired of existence. In the winter when the wind chilled his bones and the flowers wilted, the ice cream shop would be closed, shutters drawn over its once welcoming windows. Ouma preferred to go without food those days, instead sipping on tea loaded with sugar cubes. The purple scarf around his neck was calming and warm.

He doesn't know why he started this ritual but he can't stop. Some drink away the pain, others surround themselves with loved ones to feel happiness but Kokichi ate ice cream every week. He was going to get sick from this diet eventually, but he had always been self-destructive so there was no point in stopping. The sweetness of the food contrasted those salty tears that streaked down his face. He was older now, but certainly not wiser. More foolish for sure. Maybe the sugar numbs sadness, but it never overpowered bitterness.

Currently, he's working on a bubblegum flavoured scoop. It had been a particularly rough day for him and this was his release. Yellow daffodils grew in clusters of butter yellow at his feet as the children clambered up a climbing frame. Kokichi inhaled the humid air whilst adjusting his position. He had been there for an hour, but he wasn't counting anyway. If someone saw him, they would come up to the lonely boy on the bench and offer him a friend, but nobody ever saw him. He was ghosting this place, his violet eyes seemingly empty of emotion, devoid of life.

On rare occasions, Ouma liked to ponder on questions that invaded his mind at night. The night spent at the apartment funded by his prize money. Some days he didn't go back there, preferring to sleep in a hotel. The money felt dirty in his hands as he passed it over to the receptionist; unnatural. Why did they all have to die? It was such a simple question with a complicated answer. There were two survivors of the killing game; Tenko and himself. Tenko, from what little he had heard from his daily paper, had been overwhelmed by outliving everyone and accepted to join the 54th season, now under the name Hana Senmatsu, Ultimate Survivor. Ouma didn't bother watching the new series. She kicked the bucket after the second trial. To be honest, it wasn't surprising. Her new personality was cowardly and introverted; a perfect target for a quick and easy kill. She probably went down without a fight, just like Himiko did.

Other questions that haunted his brain were usually a compilation of 'what-ifs' and 'buts' and 'coulds' and 'woulds'. What if he died instead? What if he had been nicer, worked with Shuichi and ended the killing game together? And suddenly the memories of Saihara were too much for him and he just broke down inside, withering and sobbing-

A dollop of the blue confection dribbled on to his hand, startling him from his thoughts.

Ouma didn't know why he was like this. He was just mopey and fucked in the head. Double the problems, double the fun, he supposed, haha. Visits to doctors used to be a common occurrence before he realised that pouring his heart out to a stranger was practically useless. Kokichi was on medication for a month or so, but that failed to help either. Alcohol was too bitter and had a nasty aftertaste that brought him back to the grape Panta that he went through like water in the academy. Drugs were out of the question, especially hallucinogens. Who knew what crazy shit he'd see on a high? Besides, it was illegal anyway. So that all left him with one option that he's hesitant to try: self-harm. He knew there were probably more options before that, but he didn't give two shits about eating healthily and having a positive mindset. Though, cutting or harm made him nervous, so he ignored that outcome. It just made him sick to think someone would cut their body into little fragments like that, as if every slice was a piece of their vulnerability and worries becoming visible to the world.

It made him sick because he remembered Saihara's death vividly. There was one, long, huge cut and it had been fatal.

Kokichi gripped the side of the bench with white knuckles, and squeezed, tight, as if grounding himself or trying to match the steady rotations of the Earth. Why, oh why, was he such a fucking wimp? It was only a little bit of blood, splattered all over the desk in the detective's finale, the gory display right in front of his haunting eyes that weren't moving, weren't living with courage-

Blood scared him now.

A soft breeze slithered through the border of sycamore trees behind him, and for a second, Ouma could smell a freshly baked cherry pie from a little house nearby. The kids shrieked in joy when they reached the top of the frame, waving frantically at their parents. This scene playing out before him was idyllic, straight from a brochure or advertisement. Angie would've loved to paint this. He crunched on his chocolate dipped cone absentmindedly, savouring the slight sugar rush that lifted his spirits, if only momentarily. Idyllic for everyone but him, how pathetic. 

Crunch.

They tried to tell him that it wasn't him.

Crunch. 

But he could've saved him.

Crunch.

Saihara didn't deserve this.

Ouma dusted his lap down with his hands and stood up. He had to do something with his time other than mope on a bench. Maybe stroll through the forest and stretch his (relatively short) legs? Yeah, that would take his mind off things. After all, it was a gorgeous day out, and the smell of that pie and the lingering taste of bubblegum and wafer on his lips added to that fact. Bidding the park goodbye with a silent nod, Kokichi started towards the forest but was stopped by a sudden tug at his coat.

"Uh, h-hey, mister."

Ouma turned to see a young boy. He couldn't have been older than ten, and had bright hazel eyes that sparkled in the sunshine. His brown hair was styled with gel, but curls still ran down the side of his cheeks. 

"Huh? What do you want, kid?" Ouma said, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

The boy shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm turning ten in three weeks!" His eyes lit up with both light and excitement. Was that all? "I can't believe you're here! I finally get to meet you!"

"Me?"

"Yeah!" He beamed, "You were my favourite!"

"Favourite?" Kokichi's stomach dropped in dread. He had a hunch but-

"I'm so glad you won! You even outlived Kaito; he was pretty cool!" 

Ouma wanted to throw up. This kid was so young and he watched everyone, real people, die. He watched Saihara die with blood drooling out of his neck. He watched as he discovered the body and stared, not wanting to break his façade. He just stared at the corpse and couldn't cry, couldn't cry until he curled up in the bathroom with nobody watching. 

"I used to want to be an astronaut too, but now I've changed my mind." The boy's smile shifted from something innocent to something that looked partially delirious. "I'm gonna go on Danganronpa and I'll be an Ultimate Detective!"

Kokichi screamed as the boy's face melted alongside his body and the wind turned cold until it wasn't there. The happy children had disappeared and he was floating in an abyss of shadow.

Everything was silent, almost serene. There was nothing and Ouma was free to shake and cry without fear of being watched. That was, until, different pairs of eyes, each a shade of hot pink, made contact with him, and the shadow became figures circling around him. 

"What the hell did you do, ya fuckin' shithead!?" The figure's short pink dress fluttered in the non-existent breeze. 

"Nyeh, you're kinda disappointing, as usual. I'm too tired to deal with you." A smaller one said.

"Do you even realize how much you put us through?" This one was slightly more aggressive as they raised a fist. His mouth was oozing blood.

"And yet you get to live? Atua is very disappointed."

Kokichi trembled, "I'm sorry, I-I am, I'm sorry. I didn't want you all to die, honestly..." He collapsed to his knees, but the apparitions didn't relent in their abuse.

"Gonta no can believe that." Gonta had his arms crossed, his happy demeanor completely gone.

"Yeah, remember the fourth class trial? You basically killed two people!" Akamatsu smiled, but it wasn't one of her usual, comforting, positive smiles.

"I-I..."

"I'm afraid I will have to agree, I am devoted to my classmates." Kirumi stated.

All throughout this, Kokichi was shivering and sobbing, reaching out to one ghost in particular. 

"Shuichi." He sobbed, eyes brimming with tears. His lips trembled and his hand was outstretched, begging for Saihara to help him. "Y-You know I didn't mean it, right? Help me." He continued to hold out his hand as Shuichi drifted away, clutching his neck as it bled. 

"Don't leave me, I don't want to be alone." 

The ghosts disappeared one by one, leaving him huddled up in the void. "Why does everyone leave? D-Don't leave, ple-ase."

Light began to crack through the darkness. Ouma flinched. "Saihara, come back!" He sobbed, the white obstructing his vision. "Saihara!"

-★-

Kokichi woke up when the sky was filled with deep oranges and crimson. The grass was bathed in the beautiful light and the daffodils were practically glowing.

He'd fallen asleep in the park again, but he didn't care anymore.

(They'll find his body near the weeping willow trees that hunched over like they were tired of existence.)

**Author's Note:**

> And they all die, the end :)


End file.
